


Finding Beauty In An Ugly Place

by PTwritesmore



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Discord: Harry Potter Fanfic Club, Dolores Umbridge is Her Own Warning, F/M, Harry Potter Fanfiction Club Server's Winter Challenge II, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Rare Pairings, Snogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29567538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PTwritesmore/pseuds/PTwritesmore
Summary: While Hogwarts is a great opportunity for Dolores Umbridge on her continued quest for order and tradition, it is also the place she feels most alone. One man can change that, though his attention is strictly forbidden.This monstrosity was written for the HPFF Winter Writing Challenge II
Relationships: Argus Filch/Dolores Umbridge
Comments: 24
Kudos: 20





	Finding Beauty In An Ugly Place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Modest_K](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Modest_K/gifts).



> This is either my most serious crack fic or my most ridiculous serious fic….you decide?
> 
> Thank you to Amarillis for subjecting herself to this and betaing 
> 
> For Modest_K - could this be your new OTP?

Dolores Umbridge looked in the mirror, assessing her appearance for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. She brushed her pink cardigan and adjusted her kitten brooch, anxiety rising within her. “ _ Ugly _ ,” her mind whispered, forcing Dolores to look away from her reflection. She released a heavy sigh, gazing at the wooden door of her chambers again. 

Her quarters, while pristinely decorated in her favorite color, sometimes felt like a prison. Being back at Hogwarts was a strange experience for Dolores. While she loved her time as a student, helping lead her house as a prefect and then the school as Head Girl, returning also brought back some less pleasant memories. 

No matter where she was on the campus, she was rocketed back to her school days. There was something about the familiar smell of Hogwarts that made her feel vulnerable, lonely. 

As her pink kitten heels clicked on the stone floors, she remembered walking these halls alone, hearing the nasty snickers of boys as she walked past.

“Uptight bitch,” they’d whisper after she’d deduct points. “Somebody out to remove the stick up her bum.” 

“Ugly toad,” bounced off the stone walls, the taunt somehow always following her. “ _ Ugly, ugly, ugly _ ,” would echo in her brain as she looked in the mirror and got ready for class each morning. “ _ Ugly, ugly, ugly _ ,” her mind would chant as she sat alone at the Great Hall to eat breakfast. “ _ Ugly, ugly, ugly, _ ” the words followed her into each class, on each Prefect patrol, and each study session. “ _ Ugly, ugly, ugly _ ,” climbed into bed with her each night. 

With no escape, Dolores decided that while her natural beauty left something to be desired, her brain did not. The capable witch threw herself into her work, first at Hogwarts, then at the Ministry. She climbed the ranks, leaving those boys who called her names behind as she became more important, more powerful, than they’d ever be.

Overcoming schoolyard taunts, Dolores found a higher purpose. She was dedicated to rules, to order, to tradition. Each project she took on, she conquered with force and a sickly sweet smile on her face. Now, at Hogwarts, she’d faced her biggest test yet. 

Yet, all the influence in the world, all the changes to leave this world better, more pure, than she found it, couldn’t fill the void in her heart. She was destined to be alone; ugly and alone.

Until she met  _ him _ . 

A knock on the door pulled Dolores back to the present. She checked the mirror once more, pushing the chant of “ _ ugly, ugly, ugly _ ,” out of her mind as she made sure not a single hair was out of place.

She opened the door to find an oversized bouquet of pink roses pushed towards her. She gasped, peeking up at the man holding them with a shy smile. 

“Flowers for my flower,” he said softly as he shuffled past her, into her quarters. 

“Thank you, Argus,” she whispered, taking the bouquet and rubbing the delicate petals between her thumb and pointer finger. “These are beautiful.”

“Just like you,” he said as he took off his brown coat and hung it up while she put the flowers in a vase. Dolores could feel the heat flood to her cheeks at his compliment. Argus Filch made her feel beautiful, without knowing the power of those little comments that came so easily to him. 

Nevermind that the first man to show interest in her since her Hogwarts days was a Squib. She was meant to hate him and yet, she couldn’t find a reason to. 

When Dolores looked at Argus she saw a partner in creating order in the chaos. He understood what she was trying to build and his unwavering commitment to rules was matched only by her own. He was even a fellow cat lover. It was as though someone had built Dolores the perfect wizard, but just took away his magic. 

Argus understood her; he wanted her; he loved her.

That is why she kept seeing him. Though they couldn’t publicly be together, his temptation was too great. She could ignore his glaring fault, his Squib status, as long as they kept things secret. Dolores knew it couldn’t last, but she just couldn’t give him up.

“Did you have a good day?” Argus whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck, as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. 

“I caught some students canoodling in a classroom,” she replied with pride. “Absolutely disgraceful. They were breaking dozens of our decrees.”

“Little miscreants,” he spat, turning her around. His pale eyes twinkled with excitement. “What did you do to them?”

“The quill of course,” Dolores said in a low voice, watching how a smile played on his thin lips. 

“Tell me about it,” he murmured. “You’re so beautiful when you talk about punishing students.”

_ “Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, _ ” his voice echoed in her brain, a new chant to overtake the old one. 

As she told him of her busy afternoon, he deposited kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Wrapped up in his embrace, all Dolores could hear was, “ _ beautiful _ .” He said the word with each kiss he pressed to her wrinkling flesh. The candlelight of her quarters dancing across his pasty face, his knobby hands whispered “ _ beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, _ ” as they tangled into her hair. 

He was beautiful too. 

She was meant to hate him for his lack of magical abilities. It was a rule, an order, a tradition. But as her lips met his, Dolores realized that, occasionally, she liked breaking the rules.

Across the castle, Sybil Trelawney awoke with a start, covered in a cold sweat. She shivered, the image of Filch and Umbridge wrapped up in each other under bed sheets burned into her brain. 

“I have to stop drinking that psychic tea before bed,” she muttered to herself, pushing away the tendrils matted to her forehead in sleep. “These nightmares are getting out of control.” She clung to the hope that these were just nightmares, rather than psychic dreams about Dolores Umbridge and Argus Filch, because her brain could not handle it as a horrible reality. 


End file.
